Three Days
by oXXb00kw0rmXXo
Summary: For Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, and most importantly, best friend to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and love of Ginny Weasley’s life, was dead.


**Here's a little angsty oneshot. Not very happy... at all. It takes off from page 61, US edition, of DH. It starts right after Harry uses the Disarming spell and Voldy is flying (it seems so inappropriate to be calling him Voldy before you read this... ugh. Habit, I guess.)**

**Thanks to butterbeer pixies to beta-ed this for me!!**

**Enjoy and please cry (oops! Did I say cry? I meant try not to cry!)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize, most especially the few quotes from the book I used. I believe I used... at least 4. Perhaps more. Anyhow, I do not own it!**

* * *

"_Mine!"_ Voldemort shrieked into the cold night air. My stomach lurched and I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain of my scar. It burned more than I could have ever imagined. As Hagrid went tumbling through the air I groped for my wand, desperate to save him. My hand found the firm stick only seconds before the words that would end it all were heard.

"_Stupefy!"_ Snape's voice was filled with determination.

"_Proteg--"_ I began to counter, but it was no good. The beams, which I could still not see through the pain, hit me squarely on the chest. They burned and before I could even let out a scream, I found myself in nowhere, in blackness. The last thing I heard while I was conscious was the scream of Lord Voldemort.

* * *

I groaned, my muscles stiff and sore. I tried not to move, just lay there on the cold ground. _What happened?_ I thought numbly, struggling to wake. My eyelids felt like they were glued shut. I reached for my wand--to keep me armed, no matter what was going on. Constant vigilance! I smiled, thinking of Moody and his paranoia. Then again, it wasn't such a bad idea in this time.

It wasn't there, my wand. I wondered why for just a few seconds.

Memories of my runaway flooded back. I groaned again, but not from pain. From defeat. I was surely dead now. I would have no use for my wand when I was dead, right? And they wouldn't bother keeping me alive when they had me in their grasp.

I forced my eyes open, only to be met with complete and utter darkness. Was this Heaven? I had never expected it to be so sinister. My parents couldn't possibly be _here_, could they? No, they couldn't. Sirius wouldn't stand for it, either. If Heaven was like this, he would insist on being relocated. It must be Hell. But then that rose the question of why I was here! What had I done?

My stomach twisted with hunger and my mouth begged for water. I swallowed unsuccessfully, only making my parched throat scream in protest. I curled up in a ball, willing the pain away. I couldn't be dead, not yet. If I were dead, it wouldn't hurt this much.

A door slammed open and footsteps alerted me of someone's presence. It seemed like ages away, though I knew it was only a few yards. Dim light filled the room, which I now saw was a basement. Discarded furniture and boxes littered the floor. I felt out of place.

A clank nearby told me that the light source had been put down. I squinted through, trying to force my mind to function. The person standing above me was familiar.

"Do you know who I am?" the cruel voice questioned. I nodded, incapable of words.

"What's my name?" I searched for the answer, but couldn't find it. I was in too much pain, too hungry, too thirsty.

A jug was pushed up to my lips. Sweet water flowed out of it and into my mouth. It was stale and stagnant, but I didn't care. I gulped gratefully, wetting my lips and throat. The water was withdrawn suddenly and I gasped for breath, coughing out onto the ground before me.

"More," I croaked desperately, hoping he would take pity on me, this strange, familiar man.

"What's my name?" he asked again. I searched once more for the answer. Flashes of him filled my mind, but his name could not be found. The water jug was once again pushed to me. I gulped and gulped until it was empty. "I'll get you more when you answer my question."

I forced myself to focus now. What was his name? He peered at me with his cold black eyes and the answer hit me – literally.

"Answer my question!" I doubled over from his kick.

"Snape," I whispered. He stood back, satisfied. "Snape…" My mind went wild, remembering all the things he had done. My body somehow found the strength to leap up to my feet. I went forward, half delusional, to strangle the man who had killed Dumbledore. It took all but a swish of his wand to subdue me.

I fell to the ground, held in place with invisible ropes. I cried out as my aching back hit the ground. Snape just sneered.

"You ought to be grateful, you little brat!" he spat at me and I winced. "I'm the one that convinced the Dark Lord to keep you alive this long! If not for me, you would be rotting underground, dead!"

I glared.

"You're also the reason that Dumbledore _is!_" I yelled back. He grimaced, as if it pained him to think of that night. He pulled some black fluff and a short length of rope out of his pocket. Without a word, he stuffed the fluff into my mouth and secured the rope around my jaw. I couldn't speak, I couldn't scream.

I was pulled suddenly to my feet and stumbled along as I was shoved up the stairs towards a bright light. I winced and squinted my eyes.

"Behave yourself," Snape muttered before he opened the big, wooden doors.

My scar burned, it seared, my head felt like it would split into two. Tears sprang to my eyes as I cried out. Many heads turned to the sudden noise. Draco Malfoy's eyes grew wide and fearful when he saw me. His father looked weak and powerless compared to his master. Narcissa was watching her son intently. Bellatrix and Voldemort alike looked smug.

"Well, well, well," Bellatrix taunted in her baby voice. "What do we have here? Itty, bitty Potter has finally been captured!"

"He would have been dead by now, if not for Snape's quick thinking," Malfoy Sr. snarled. Voldemort's lips curled upward. I realized later that it was a smile.

"You see, Potter, we _will_ kill you. But why not have some fun with it? We've got nothing to lose--you're defenseless! Your friends all think you're dead and the Wizarding world has lost hope. Un-gag him, Snape. I want to hear his screams." A flick of a wand later, the bonds around my mouth were gone. I spat out the fluff with disgust.

"Draco, get him food," Voldemort ordered. The blond-haired boy jumped from his seat and rushed to wherever the food was kept. He came back with a tray, scarcely filled.

"Is this sufficient, sir?"

"Yes, I suppose. Put it in front of him." The tray was set beside me and my head immediately turned. How long had it been since I ate? Since I was captured?

"Three days," Snape smirked. "We captured you three days ago. Your friends got away, all but two. You'll be glad to hear that the Golden Gryffindor Trio will be reunited in just a matter of time."

"No!" I croaked, suddenly aware of my dry throat again.

"They're dead, they were hit by the Killing Curse. Eat. You must be starving."

And I was. I dove into the food as they watched with disgust. The food itself was revolting, but the feeling of substance in my stomach felt good. I swallowed without chewing, trying not to taste.

When I was finished, they were still watching, now with wands out.

"First things first," Voldemort hissed. He withdrew a stick from his pocket. My wand. With one swift movement, he snapped it into two. I gasped. My wand was gone.

"Master," Bellatrix cooed, only seconds later, though it felt like years. "I know that it is generally _my_ job to torture the prisoners, but don't you feel that Draco needs the practice? He won't have mercy on him, I'm sure. Old rivals, aren't you Draco?"

"Yes, Aunt Bella."

"Potter?" They all turned to me for clarification. There was no lying, I knew that. I sighed and let the answer out.

"We were on opposing Quidditch teams if that counts at all." Bellatrix laughed, her shrill cackle ringing in my ears.

"Slytherin and Gryffindor, too! What's more? Master, would you mind?"

"Of course not. Draco, proceed." I gulped as Malfoy lifted his wand.

"C-c-crucio!" Even with the weak casting, the curse hurt more than I could have imagined. A million knives cut through my skin, through my mind. I wasn't even aware of where I was anymore. I wanted to die.

_You've been so brave_, I heard a sweet, kind voice in my head. My mother's voice. Oh dear lord, I was going insane.

_You're nearly there. Very close. We are… so proud of you_, my father's voice comforted, but their voices no longer held reassurance. Only reassurance that I was crazy.

I screamed and screamed until my throat was raw. It took several minutes to realize that the curse had been lifted. Tears were still dripping through my eyes.

"How was that, Potter? Did it hurt?"

"Kill me," I begged. His lips curled into a smile.

"Not yet, no, I don't think I will. _Crucio!_"

If the first time hurt like I couldn't imagine, then the second hurt so much I can't even describe. My life flashed before my eyes. I had always thought that was for dramatics, but it truly happened. The faces of my friends floated into my mind as I began to lose consciousness… and then it stopped.

"Snape, give him the poison," Voldemort ordered, and Snape walked forward with a vial of blood red liquid. He kneeled down to administer it. I couldn't speak, let alone fight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into my ear as he shoved the contents down my throat. "So sorry."

Pain began to spread throughout my body, though its intensity was nothing on the Cruciatus. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the sights, the voices, the pain. My body began to go limp as each breath became harder and harder to take.

"No!" Snape yelled. It must have been loudly because I heard it through the pain. "Let me give him the antidote! I can't… her son… I promised! Please, let me save him! Give him more time, please!"

Green light flashed through my eyelids and a thump beside me told me that my Potions teacher was dead. I couldn't feel pity, though I suppose I wouldn't have even if I could think properly. Instead, I was envious. Why did he get to die in such a quick way, but I was forced to suffer?

The pain subsided and my body became numb. Eventually, I drifted off into nothing.

_As easy as falling asleep_, a voice said in my mind, though it was not mine. I suddenly realized what the voices meant, only seconds before my ultimate defeat. My mother, father, and godfather had come to see me through to my death. It was oddly comforting, in a way, to know that they would be waiting on the other side, along with Hermione and Ron. Even Snape.

And so, I fell asleep forever.

* * *

They had been kinder than the Wizarding world expected them to be. They had at least left a body this time. They had left peace for the day the funeral was planned.

Hermione erupted into sobs halfway through and leaned into Ron. Ginny wiped tears that she was struggling to keep in. They had all been present for the return of his body. For some reason, Snape's body had been left as well. The Wizarding world burned it. They didn't need to hold a funeral for a Death Eater.

"You have three days! Three days to settle all matters, to surrender!" Lord Voldemort's cruel voice had announced. "Three days before we attack! That is, if you don't cooperate."

"Why should we?" a defiant Ron had called out. They had been hoping, praying, that the Chosen One was still alive somewhere, hiding in the shadows, waiting to jump out and save them at the right time.

"Harry Potter is dead. You have no hope."

"You have no proof!" Ginny had cried out. Voldemort's smug smile had grown as the crowd parroted the redhead.

"But I do. I will even give you a gift. I have nothing to do with the filth anyhow. Three days, remember!" He Apparated away with a _pop_. The crowd all shoved their way in for the "proof." Hermione got there first. Her shrieks cancelled out all sound. Ginny was next to see it. She just crumbled to the ground and cried. Ron was the last out of the three. He stared at the remains of his best friend, not quite sure if he should believe it. It seemed so surreal. He knew that he should be crying, at the very least. But he was too horrified and upset to move, to even open his mouth wide enough to scream.

For Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, and most importantly, best friend to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and love of Ginny Weasley's life, was dead. His body was a crumpled mess, bloody and scarred. He was barely recognizable. His bones had obviously been broken, though they weren't sure whether he had been alive or not when they did so. Tears finally stung at Ron's eyes and once he let them out, they flowed freely.

Harry Potter was dead. Unlike at Dumbledore's funeral, where the day contradicted itself, the weather matched perfectly. Wind and rain seared the mourners' faces as they stood in the torrents. The rain was mixed with tears and tears mixed with rain. Newly scarred heroes stood among the crowd, whether it be Harry Potter's faithful sidekicks, Hermione and Ron (he didn't care much about being called such anymore, the loss of his friend was too great; he'd rather be Harry Potter's sidekick than have no connection at all) or Remus Lupin, the werewolf who fought for good.

Tonks's hair was black and sleek. The entire crowd was swathed in black. Luna Lovegood, who didn't own any black clothes besides her school uniform, dyed her yellow robes in ink. The only color any of them wore was emerald green, the green of Harry Potter's eyes. They all wore armbands of the color around their wrists.

The grave was filled, speeches said, tears cried. Three days were up.

And the next day would be the beginning of a new era. A terrible one. One that would never end.

* * *

**Alright. Here's the basis, if you didn't get it - Voldemort is a _liar_. He lied about Hermione and Ron. They were alive. People who died during that chapter, died. Sorry guys, but Moody's dead. So is George's ear. And Hedwig, but I think it's sort of obvious that Hedwig died if harry was captured and killed, right?**

**Snape decided, wait, no, don't let Voldemort send the Killing Curse. Let's Stun him and give him some time. It worked to an extent.**

**Harry's parents and Sirius are not really there. It's is subconsious sort of comforting him. But I always felt that they would help lead him into death, even without the stone. Remus isn't dead (yet... actaully, I don't know who survives this war. Nobody, probably), so he didn't show up.**

**AND finally, why didn't Harry come back to life in here? Well, here's the thing - in DH, Harry very clearly went to Voldemort with the intention to kill himself for the Wizarding World. He had no intention on even being near Voldemort in this. He wasn't given the choice to hide and possibly live.**

**Ya know what's really sad? He didn't even get to be of age. He's still sixteen when he's killed. And they just threw away Snape's body. Nobody ever comes to understand him. Everyone who could explain things are dead, insane, etc.**

**I'd love some feedback, as this is only my second (third??) HP fic posted. One is a long one and not very good. The other, I personally think, is great and in a weird POV. I love it though! Be expecting more HP fics, I'm on a roll!**


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